


Fool in the Rain

by AlexKollontai74



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Cas is a uni professor, Dean is doing a BA in Europe because it's cheaper, Domesticity, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I mean a VERY slow burn, Roommates, Slow Burn, Sweet and Quiet, This is set in Amsterdam, comfortable, soft, some smut, they have a kitten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27280915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKollontai74/pseuds/AlexKollontai74
Summary: Castiel is living with his brother Gabriel in a quiet flat in the centre of Amsterdam. When Gabriel leaves for Paris to follow his pastry-chef dream, Castiel must find a new roommate.Dean has lost everything and everyone and decided to apply for a visa and leave for Europe. It's not like there is anything keeping him from leaving: Sam has made it clear he doesn't care. He ends up in Amsterdam, looking for an affordable apartment...
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel - Relationship, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I missed Amsterdam so I wrote this!  
> Hope you enjoy this and have a lovely day,
> 
> \- Al

Amsterdam was unusually good for the time of year. It was the end of August, and the city was hot, sunny and full of German tourists. People were biking slower than usual as if unconsciously trying to get more time in the sun. The parks were crowded, some people were jumping off into the canals from the smaller bridges. Castiel was relishing in it. The city, although overwhelming at times, was impacting his mood in the best of ways. 

He looked up from his computer and observed the many people around him outside of the café - he enjoyed observing strangers. He quietly looked at a woman on his left who was speaking English loudly with what he hypothesised was a faint Italian accent. He took a sip of his very expensive coffee and turned back to the people around him. Everyone seemed happier that day, in the way only the sun could ever make them. He took another sip of his overly expensive coffee and closed his laptop. He thought he should enjoy the sun a little more, and work in the evening. He thought of what he was going to eat at home: a couple of leftover chicken breasts, some soup and some green beans. He’d have to stop by Albert Heijn on the way home. 

Something about the day felt peaceful. Like the world had stopped turning and had let the moment be, then pass, onto another one. The day felt like a yoga session. Like the earth was meditating. Like humanity was taking a deep breath. 

A few minutes later, he finished his coffee and decided to go home. University was about twenty minutes away from his apartment in De Pijp, and he stopped by the supermarket as he had planned. By the time he got home, he was happy to break away from people. His quota of socialization had been met. He parked his bike, locked it and got into his building, before going up the four narrow flights of stairs that lead to his apartment. He opened the door gently to find his kitten, Jack, waiting for him by the door. He dropped his bags, took off his shoes and greeted the cat. “How was your day, Jack?” He asked. The feline, uninterested turned around and left for the kitchen. Castiel chuckled. Food and sleep were all Jack thought about, which Castiel envied. 

“Are you talking to the cat again?” Someone mocked from down the couch. 

“Hello, Gabriel.” Said Castiel with a gentle smile. “How are you?”

Gabriel grinned as he said “Meow!” 

Castiel rolled his eyes but continued to put his groceries in the cupboard. “So I take you had a good day?” He tried again.

“Are you kidding? With this weather? I had the best day ever!” He paused. “Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about.” 

Castiel frowned and turned around to face his brother. Something about the second part of the sentence bugged him. The tone of voice was wrong. Serious. A highly unusual trait for his brother’s speech. 

“Is everything okay?” Castiel asked, anxiety rising in his chest. 

Gabriel got up from the couch and leaned across the piece of wood that was a bar, a dining table and a kitchen counter. “So, I got a job offer today.”

Castiel sighed in relief. “That is wonderful!” But Gabriel seemed tense, still. 

“The job is in Paris.” 

Castiel’s lips formed a silent ‘oh’. Anyone would realise, he knew, that for a pastry chef, getting offered a job in Paris was a pretty big deal. A sign of recognition. Something Gabriel should accept right away. Something a good friend and a good brother would help him pack for. What he did not know was whether he was ready to see his brother leave him for another country. He did not know if he could handle being left behind. Again. He did not know how he could if he would manage. 

Castiel stayed silent for a long moment. He thought about how much Gabriel had helped him over the last three years, about how his brother had accepted to move to Europe with him for him, after Castiel had been accepted for a PhD position in Amsterdam, about the many times Gabriel pushed him, stopped him, and put him back together, and about how Gabriel had found a way to get Castiel to do things, to feel things again after everything had collapsed on him just three years ago and left him with nothing, no one, not even himself. He knew that he was not saved, still in recovery, still working, still hurting, and he knew that he was the one that had to save himself, but he had to acknowledge everything that Gabriel had done for him. All the ways Gabriel had shown him he deserved to be happy and alive. In the midst of things, the argument, the pranks and the times Gabriel had kicked his butt fell into the umbrella term of “everything Gabriel has done for me” and although Castiel knew rationally that he did not have to repay his brother, he felt that he would never be able to. All he could do was try. And that started with a small step. 

“You should go.” He said. “To Paris, I mean.” He paused. “It is a formidable opportunity.” He was sincere. 

Gabriel looked at him, apparently trying to see whether his brother was being truthful or not. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I could stay.”

Castiel smiled. “You could, and I know you would. But you should go to Paris.” 

Gabriel smiled back. A bright smile that broke Castiel’s heart in two, while simultaneously filling it with delight. “I hoped you would say that. I think you can do it, Cassie. You’re stronger than you were two years ago, you’re better! You have friends here, and you have work. You have Jack too. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Castiel nodded. “You’re right. I am.” He was not sure who he was trying to convince most. “Question is, will you be able to cope without me?” He joked.

“I mean… It’ll be hard, but come on dude! Paris! I can’t wait to meet French women! I mean I’ll be working most of the time for sure, but women who speak French, brother. Women. French! I can’t wait to have a proper  _ ménage à trois _ …” He smirked.

“I hope France turns out as everything you dream it will be,” Castiel said. Again, he was sincere. He was also ignoring a quickly forming pile of dread growing at the pit of his stomach.

From then on, Gabriel’s departure was the source of many small but seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Visas and bureaucracy were many of them. Jack got sick. The weather turned into his September shades: grey, mostly. Castiel was confronted with many things at once, several prospects that made him extremely anxious: the start of a new school year where he was teaching, his brother leaving for another country and one day, he realised he had to choose rather quickly between giving up his apartment for something more affordable on his own or to start looking for a roommate.

The prospect of living with a stranger terrified him to his core. He had not lived with someone that was not his family in years, and the college roommate that he had described him as “weird” “really weird” and “a fucking nuisance”. He was not looking forward to repeating the experience. On the other hand, he loved his apartment. It was in a real Amsterdam townhouse house, in one of the most lively neighbourhoods, close to everything, the landlord did not mind his cat, he was registered to the municipality and he had both a quiet balcony as well as a window that opened over the busy street. In the summer he spent many evening reading, his legs hanging over the edge, his butt securely behind the on the other side of the ledge. He couldn’t choose, but Gabriel’s departure was arriving quickly. 

In the end, his love for his apartment trumped his fear of people in close proximity. He promised Gabriel he’d try, and so he did. He tried to define his criteria for his future roommate but found that it demanded more introspection than he was ready for. Instead, he called one of his friends from university: a Scottish university tutor at the business school that went by Crowley, although he had told Castiel one night that his real name was Fergus. Crowley came over that night and had a glass of whiskey before saying: “Listen, angel,” He had taken to calling Castiel “Angel” after learning of its religious origin. “Listen” he repeated. “Finding a place in this city is hell, okay? People are shady, the private market has gone to shit so nothing is affordable. If you put any kind of ad out there, you’ll have so many answers that you’ll get to sort out who’s your type and who isn’t. Also, I am hurt that you never asked me.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes at the last part of Crowley’s speech. “Please Crowley, I have  _ seen  _ your apartment. You never do the dishes. I also would rather my roommate didn’t have a stash of cocaine in every room.” 

Crowley laughed all heartedly. “See? That’s already two things you can put on the ad. Dishes and no coke. Don’t say I never helped you with anything.” He winked and poured himself a second whiskey. 

The next day Castiel took pen and paper and wrote fifty words.

_ Looking for a roommate _

_ 56m _ _ 2 _ _ in De Pijp, common kitchen and bathroom, bedroom to rent 11m _ _ 2 _ _ , 575 euros utilities excluded. The room will be available from the 7th of September  _

_ I am 27 years old American completing my PhD at the University of Amsterdam, looking for a quiet, friendly roommate.  _

He stared at the words for a long time. Sighed. Then added. 

_ I have a cat.  _

Then he added:

_ You can send me an email via perhapsroommates@gmail.com _

He sighed again. The Gmail address was Gabriel’s idea. Then, resigned, he copied the text on his laptop and published his ad with a few pictures of the flat on several Facebook groups. 

A week later, Castiel had invited four people to visit the apartment. That morning, Gabriel left by yelling: “Have fun on your dates!” which had stresses Castiel a little. All was forgiven when he realised that Gabriel had made cookies for him to heat up when the guests - definitely not dates - would visit the house. He ate one while waiting for his first potential roommate. 

Lillith was the only woman who had answered the ad, and Castiel knew from the moment she entered the room that she would not be the right fit. She asked three questions, how often could she invite people over, how he felt about moving furniture around and if she could put a fridge in her room. There was nothing wrong with her, but Castiel did not feel comfortable in her presence. She seemed very young, and something just refused to click. He offered her a cookie and she declined. 

The second guest refused to pet Jack, saying that “he’s fine, I am just not really into pets”, Which Castiel took personally. The visit went very well and the man - a British expat named Balthazar - was charming and asked the right questions, but Castiel had been wounded in his paternal pride. He briefly wondered if perhaps he was not unconsciously trying to find faults in the people he was meeting. Maybe he was not ready to move in with someone. With that in mind, he took a mental note that Balthazar was the best candidate so far.

He decided to make more of an effort for his third guest and put the cookies in the oven so that he could offer a couple of warm pastries and give the flat a lovely, homey scent. He was determined to give the next person a decent chance.

However, The third candidate made him forget about his good intentions. From the get-go, the man, who was really nice in his emails, turned out to be rude and condescending. The man was named Michael and Castiel realised that he did share many traits with his older brother. By the time he left, Castiel’s energy was drained. Before he could call the last candidate to cancel the visit, someone rang the doorbell. 

“Hi! I’m Dean!” Said the voice in the interphone. 

“Hello, Dean.” Said Castiel. “Come on up.” And he buzzed the door open. 

He opened the door to his apartment and waited for Dean. Dean was taller than Castiel and warmer. He had blond hair and the shadow of a beard. He seemed strong and very masculine. 

“Whoo!” Dean said. “Those stairs are really something aren’t they?” He smiled. He had a warm smile and Castiel smiled back without thinking.

“Would you like to come in?” He said to Dean.

“I would love to! I hmm.. I might need a minute though, my cardio isn’t as good as it once was.” He admitted. Although that was an unusual comment to make for a first impression, Castiel smiled and asked him to take his time. “The stairs take some getting used to, but after a while you can run-up to the apartment, I promise.”

Dean looked back at the stairway. “That sounds dangerous. Hasn’t anyone ever broken a hip or something? These stairs are so steep, man!” Somehow his comments did not come off as disappointed or degrading, he was not complaining or telling Castiel he was wrong. He seemed genuinely amazed that no one had been hurt.

“Well…” Castiel admitted. “My brother has threatened to sleep on the ground floor a couple of times. He does not like these stairs either.”

Dean laughed. “Glad to hear it’s not just me.” He walked up closer to Castiel and offered his hand. “I think I’m recovered. Sorry about that. I’m Dean. It’s nice to meet you.”

They shook hands. Dean’s hand was rough and held Castiel’s hand firmly. He seemed confident. “I am Castiel. It’s lovely making your acquaintance.” He answered as he noticed that Dean’s eyes were green. “Right this way.” 

Dean followed him around the apartment for a few minutes. In the bathroom, he nodded at what Castiel was saying. In the bedroom, Jack decided that he was hungry. The kitten walked slowly towards Castiel’s legs and loudly signified his presence… and appetite. 

Dean’s face lit up. “And who is that?!” 

“This is Jack. My cat.” 

“Can I pet him?” Dean asked. And Castiel was certain that Dean was by far the best roommate he could find. 

“You can. Would you like to hold him?”

“I mean, not to seem girly or anything but he’s the cutest kitten I have ever seen. I would love that. I always wanted a pet as a child but…” He stopped mid-sentence. “Well, it just wasn’t possible, ya know.”

Castiel nodded. “My family was really strict about pets too.” He said. “But I always knew I wanted a cat.” He admitted. 

“I like dogs better, actually. But I think this tiny one might change my mind.” Castiel placed Jack in Dean’s arms and saw Dean beaming for a short moment, but the cat wasn’t having any of it. 

“Sorry, he’s not feeling very sociable for now.” Castiel apologised as Jack left the room running.

“That’s alright, we all have those days, I get it,” Dean said. He winked. “You are actually a lot friendlier than I expected.”

Castiel frowned. “No, wait, that came out wrong!” Dean said. “Sorry, that’s not what meant… I … Well, it is what I mean but…” Castiel saw the man get frustrated at himself as if he was looking into a mirror. He said: “It’s okay, I’m not offended. What did you mean?”

Dean looked up, cheeks flushed. 

“The ad said “quiet and friendly” so… I… Well, I was kind of expecting a weirdly silent professor in tweed, ya know? You’re just… you’re very… not that.” Dean tried to explain. 

Castiel was still confused. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“It’s great! It’s a great thi… Wait, Cas, do you smell that?” He paused. “Is something burning?”

Castiel frowned. He found Dean very confusing. He could not smell anything…

“Oh no.” He said. The words came out as facts. “Oh no!” He repeated as he ran towards the kitchen. The cookies! He had forgotten the cookies in the oven! He grabbed a towel and opened the oven.   
“Cas wait!” Warned Dean, but black smoke jumped out of the oven right towards Castiel’s face. Castiel took the cookies’ tray and threw it in the sink, a couple of dark burnt barely recognisable rocks falling into the ground. He picked them up too, coughing. “Could you open a window?” He asked. “On it!” Dean answered. Castiel tried to fan the smoke out using a cookbook that was sitting on the counter, and Dean joined in. 

In three minutes, most of the smoke was gone. 

They sat down at the dining table-bar-counter and drank some water. “I apologise about that. Gabriel had made some cookies and I wanted to offer them warm. I completely forgot about them.” 

Dean shrugged. “It’s okay, it happens. We stopped it in time so…” An awkward silence lingered between them. “Okay, so I’ll be honest, fires freak me out,” said Dean. “I have to ask. Do you forget about things in the oven often? Because that freaks me out”. 

Castiel felt disappointment fill his guts. “I don’t. I’m usually very careful about that. I promise. Sorry.” Castiel didn’t feel disappointed; he felt like a disappointment. He had screwed up majorly. He had found someone nice and had almost started a fire. 

“No need to apologise. As I said, it happens. It’s okay, Cas.”

“Thank you for being so understanding.”

“It’s fine. Visits must be stressful.” 

“They are.” Castiel chuckled.

“I bet you must have met some really weird people too.”

“Well, there is one man that found the stairs up here to be particularly harrowing.” He smiled.

“Hey! I thought you said your brother felt the same way!”

“He does. And I don’t let him forget about it either.” Castiel felt less guilty about the almost-fire by now.

“Siblings, man. I get that.”

“Do you have any siblings yourself?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “Hmm yeah. I got a little brother. His name is Sam. He’s in law school right now, back in the US. We… hmm… We don’t really talk.”

Castiel thought about his words carefully. He understood how many possibilities of complexity there could be in the last words. He must have thought too carefully, for Dean went on. “Anyway, hmm… your apartment is awesome, the rent is right and you seem like a cool guy. Do you have an idea of when you’ll make a decision? Regarding the roommate thing I mean.”

_ I have made up my mind already _ . Thought Castiel.

“You can expect to hear from me tomorrow.” 

“Cool. I should probably get going soon. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Not at the moment. I will contact you if any question surfaces later.”

“Thanks, Cas, can’t wait to hear from you!” They walked to the door.

“Have a safe journey home, Dean.”

They waved, but Cas felt a strange urge to hug the other man. 

“Thanks for the visit, Cas. See ya ‘round!”

Late that night Castiel went through the email they had exchanged. A particular passage was what prompted Castiel to meet Dean. 

_ I don’t know if I would describe myself as a quiet person, but perhaps as a person who enjoys quiet. The world is loud enough you know? and I often welcome it, but sometimes I think we should listen, not drown out the noise. _

He re-read it many times before falling asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?
> 
> I cannot. How do we process information like that?  
> Joe President? Destiel Canon? I had lost all hope.  
> It was not perfect, but damn, for both it's the tears in Misha's eyes that got me.
> 
> Anyway, I procrastinated on my econ work and now, behold, a new chapter. 
> 
> TW: there is some smoking pot at the end of this chapter. It's cliché, to smoke weed in Amsterdam, but it's also legal. And at night near the Amstel, it's like the city will keep your secrets. It's lovely.  
> That being said, I do not encourage anyone to smoke or anything. And if you do, do it with people you trust and drink plenty of water afterwards.
> 
> Again, I hope you enjoy this, tell me what you think!
> 
> Have a wonderful day and good luck with whatever you have on your plate at the moment!
> 
> Take care,
> 
> \- Al

That morning, Castiel woke up to a text from an unknown number. He put his head back into his pillow and sighed. Why did he look at his phone first in the morning? He asked himself. He always regretted it. News, alerts and texts from strangers were no way to start off the day. Now he was grumpy and needed coffee. Lots of it. 

Gabriel was not in the kitchen, he rarely was in the morning, he usually left for the bakery around five, sometimes earlier. 

“We really have nothing in common,” Castiel thought, although he knew it was not true.

He fed Jack, put some water in his little bowl and made coffee. A small french press, and coffee he got from a small farmer’s market near Museumplein on Saturdays. Delightful.

He let his attention wander as he sat down by the window. The city was already fully awake, dutch parents taking their children to school by bike. He found it touching to see so many people biking their kids around. It was so Dutch it made him smile. 

Considering himself awake enough, he took his phone and focused on the mysterious text. It was from a dutch number, but that did not help. It had been sent around four that morning. It went

**Hi Castiel,**

**You were enchanting and the apartment was lovely, but I don’t think we’d be a good fit. Something tells me you wouldn’t like having too much company and I like to have people stay overnight. Hope you won’t take this to heart, darling.**

**It was a pleasure to meet you, of course**

**Have a good life,**

**Balthazar**

A sense of relief washed over him. One less person to disappoint today. He smiled wider. He answered:

**Good morning Balthazar,**

**Indeed, I came to the same conclusion.**

**I wish you a good day,**

**Castiel Novak**

He looked at his message intently. Was this too cold? 

He added :

**I am happy you visited but I indeed came to the same conclusion.**

He hoped that conveyed the distant warmth he felt for the man. He had indeed been charming, despite the comment about Jack. He sent two more texts: one to Lillith, one to Michael. Brief pieces of news. The message to Michael did not have nearly enough words to convey his intense dislike for the man. It was not the point, but it would have felt great to tell the man that he had been most awful.

He opened the window as if the fresh air could help chase away the memory of Michael’s remarks, and the feelings they brought up. 

Around 8, Castiel thought he should text Dean. He tried to draft something, but nothing felt right. 

He decided to call. Dialled the number. Waited. One ringtone. Two ringtones. The tram went by.

“Dean Winchester” Dean answered.

Castiel startled. “Hello Dean, this is Castiel Novak.”

“Hey, Cas! How are you?” He sounded cheerful, but also out of breath. 

“I am doing well, thank you. Is… Is this a bad time? You seem out of breath.”

Dean laughed. The sound warmed Castiel’s heart. There was something deeply authentic and untamed about Dean’s laugh, so he savoured it. 

“No, this is fine. I was late to work so I biked faster than I thought possible, but now I’m early. And ya know what I told you about my cardio, it’s just not up to dutch biking standards.” He chuckled again. “Let me lock my bike and I’m all yours!” He added.

“Where do you work again?” Castiel asked out of honest curiosity. His question was met by a moment of silence. He waited. He could hear some metal clicking in the background. Dean appeared to have put his phone down in order to lock his bike. Castiel felt a little awkward about his unanswered, unheard even, question. He shook it off by filling his coffee cup and taking a sip of the warm liquid.

“Okay, hi again Cas, I’m yours.” Pause. “I mean I’m listening. What’s up?”

Castiel realised he should extend his offer to Dean, but didn’t know how. 

“Cas? You there?”

“Yes.” He said. “I’m unsure how best to phrase what I want to say.” He admitted. 

“Oh.” The disappointment was evident in Dean’s tone. “It’s okay, I understand. No worries, dude. I mean it sucks, but I get it, don’t beat yourself up.”

Castiel was confused. “What do you mean?”

Dean’s voice was gentle. “It’s okay if you found someone else for the apartment, Cas. I get it.”

Castiel choked on his coffee. “No Dean, it’s quite the opposite. I… I would like you to consider moving in.” Another silence filled Castiel space. What if Dean refused? He would have to reach out to more people, to…

“Dude, that’s awesome! Are you sure? I mean… Are you serious right now?” He sounded ecstatic. 

“I assure you I am being genuine. Would you consider it? You do not have to give me an answer right away.”

Dean laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign dude. This is awesome news. Thanks Cas!”

The tension in Castiel shoulders and the stiffness of his fingers mostly faded out. “Would you like to come over for dinner this evening? You could meet Gabriel, and we could perhaps talk about the logistics of the move?” 

“Sure, dinner sounds good. Could we do tomorrow instead though?”    
“Of course, that’s not a problem. How do you feel about lasagna?”

“Where have you been all my life, Cas? I freaking love lasagna. Will you be cooking?”

“I intend to, yes,” Castiel said.

“I’ll bring something for dessert then! Any favourite?”

“Dean, you don’t have to..”

“Dude, I’m gonna. So you might as well tell me what you like.” Dean was assertive, but not pushy, somehow.

“I like anything with fruit in it.” That was the truth. His favourite were raspberries  _ tartelettes _ from the fancy bakery Gabriel worked at. They were overpriced tiny pies made with fresh raspberries and caramel and Castiel’s guilty pleasure. He often joked that he’d sell his soul for one of them. 

“I’ll see what I can come up with then! Thanks again Cas, you just made my freaking day.” 

Castiel smiled. “I am glad. Where do you work again?”

“I’m a bartender at a brunch place near Museumplein. It’s nice, full of hipsters, but it’s worth it.. I’ll show you one of these days if you want!”

“That sounds lovely.” 

“It’s a deal then. I gotta go, my boss is here. Thanks again for calling, Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow night!”

“Goodbye Dean, have a good day.”

And they hung up. 

Castiel immediately texted Gabriel that they would have company the next evening, the 4th of September, then made a list of all he needed to buy for the lasagna. Then, he took a shower, got dressed and left for the university. The University buildings were scattered across the city, and Castiel was lucky enough to teach near Dam Square. The ride to work was lovely, since he crossed the oldest part of Amsterdam, and despite the early hour the centre of A’dam was already crowded. There were dozens of tourists waiting by the door of Madame Tussauds, and the red light district seemed fairly busy. He drove past the people, turned left at Madame Tussauds, straight by Albert Heijn and right on the next street. He parked his bike in the underground parking lot and took the elevator to the second floor. 

Castiel was a linguistic academic with two master's degrees: one in linguistics and one in theology. He was working on his PhD and had been offered a teaching position in the meantime. Although his focus was Enochian, his knowledge of greek and Latin was beyond satisfactory, so that was what he was teaching the few bright-faced bachelor students this term. 

After two hours, he left the building and went to his favourite coffee place. He worked on his manuscript but found himself daydreaming about life with Dean. 

What would that look like? He felt in his core that Dean was a good choice, but rationally, he realised that he knew very little about the man. He felt his anxiety rising and decided to switch to tea. 

The next day, Castiel slept in. Gabriel had told him he would be back around 5 that evening, which was also the time Dean said he would drop by. All he had to do was make lasagna, so he fed Jack and went for a run. He ran for a solid hour, then took a shower. He put on a Bob Dylan record and let it fill the flat. He put on a pair of loose jeans and a stained shirt, then he added an apron to his outfit and arranged all his ingredients neatly on the kitchen table. He cooked some ground beef, some onion and garlic together over medium heat. Then added a few canned tomatoes and completed with fresh tomatoes he had bought the day before. He seasoned with some basil he grew in a pot by the window, some salt, so parsley and some pepper. Then he let the sauce simmer for nearly two hours only stirring occasionally. In the meantime, he made the pasta from scratch and cooked it in salted water. He silently thanked Gabriel for forcing him to learn to properly cook. Cooking was a great coping mechanism to have. Cooking for others, with the knowledge that what one made was going to be given and shared with others, always felt transcendent. Cooking with music was therapeutic in a way. Not always enough, but always a good idea, for sure. After a while, Castiel made more tea and picked up a book. When it was ready, he put the lasagna together, added a lot of parmesan, and put it in the oven. It was 4.30, and Jack was lazily lying down in the sun by the window. 

He left for his bedroom in order to change. He was faced with a predicament. What should he wear? He wanted to make a good impression on Dean. He thought about that. There was not much impression to make on the man, they had met already. Nonetheless, he found himself reaching for his work clothes: a white shirt, a blazer and a blue tie. As he was tying the tie, he heard a key being turned into a lock, his brother’s familiar voice and a burst of loud, happy laughter that he knew must belong to Dean. Castiel left his room in a hurry, not bothering checking on his appearance one last time. He did not notice he had laced his tie backwards. 

“Well hello there Cassie. Look who I found!” Greeted Gabriel as Dean said “Heya Cas.”

He looked embarrassed. His cheeks were pink. Despite that, he winked. 

Castiel flushed, but smiled. He said: “Well, welcome to you both. Glad to see the both of you have survived the stairs.” Dean chuckled, but Gabriel, dramatic as ever, started a tirade about stairs, death and masculinity. It was all quite amusing. Once he was done, Dean asked where he could put the dessert. “You brought  _ dessert _ ?” Gabriel asked. 

“I made pie, actually.” Dean said.

“Bringing homemade pies to a baker? Ballsy.” Gabriel genuinely seemed impressed. 

Dean handed it over to Cas, so that he could take off his shoes. The pie smelled delicious. “Is that cherry?” Cas asked. 

“Yup. You said you liked fruit, right?”

Castel was beaming. “I did. I do.” 

Again, a companionable silence set over the two of them. “Is that Bob Dylan?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, it is. Do you like his music?”

Dean shrugged. “Sure. I mean, the man’s a genius. It’s just so… Sad, you know?” 

Castiel nodded. “I understand what you mean. But I find his tunes very soothing as well.”

That time, Dean nodded. “I get that. Sometimes comfort doesn’t come from the fluffiest of places.”

Gabriel interrupted their conversation to ask about dinner. “Not that this little exchange isn’t interesting and all but I am positively famished. I was promised lasagna!”

Castiel grabbed three plates and looked at the timer on his phone. Two more minutes. He had timed it perfectly. 

“Would either of you like something to drink? “ Castiel asked, as great a host as ever. 

“I’ll take a beer, if you have one.” Dean said politely. 

“Are you sure Dean’o? I make a mean margarita.”

Dean declined Gabriel’s offer. 

Once they were settled on the couch and the single armchair of the living room, eating Castiel’s lasagna and after giving it the proper praise the food deserved, Gabriel asked:

“So, Dean. What is it that you do exactly?”

Dean, not surprised by the inquiry answered in the carefully packaged form of well practised answers. 

“I am doing a bachelor in mechanical engineering at the free university, with a minor in esoterism at the University of Amsterdam. I also am working as a bartender at a brunch place near museumplein, at the moment.”

Gabriel chuckled. “and how’s the bachelor going? You getting along with the other kids?”

Dean laughed bitterly. “Kids is the right word for it. They’re all 18 and just out of high school, looking at me like I’m about to die of old age. It’s weird, man.” 

“Come on Dean’o, I’m sure some of ‘em don’t mind your older, more mature look, right?”

“Mature? How old do you think I am, dude.” Dean pretended to be offended. 

“C’mon, you’re practically a MILF.”

“Don’t you mean a DILF?”

Gabriel smirked. “Nope.”

Dean shoved a large piece of lasagna into his mouth in response. 

“How old are you, Dean?” Castiel asked. 

Dean twitched nervously. “Twenty-eight.”

“You seem older.” Castel said thoughtfully. He then added: “Definitely dying of old age.” with a smile. 

Dean put a hand over his heart and comically pretended to tip over. “The betrayal! Cas, how could you!”

They laughed it off. 

“So wait, you teach Latin? I thought your focus was something older.” Dean asked later, once their plates were all empty on the coffee table. 

“He listens,” noted Gabriel. “I like that one.” 

Castel ignored his brother’s comment. 

“I do teach Latin. But my PhD is about an Enochian text and how the understanding of that text may have shaped our understanding of what angels are in major religions. It is a bit of a niche topic but I enjoy it.” Cas explained. 

“A bit specific but it makes total sense. I like it. Like, when I was a kid my mom used to tell me that angels were watching over me right… Like, guardian angels and all that crap, but then in the Bible, they kinda seem to be dicks.”

Castiel chuckled. “That’s a part of what I’m researching.” Then asked: “Are you religious?”

“Cassie, maybe keep the religion and politics for the second date, yes ?” Gabriel warned. 

Dean brushed the concern off. “I don’t mind.” He paused. “Like I said, my mom believed in angels and stuff. But erm… Well let’s just say I was raised by my dad who was a lot less optimistic. So my brother and I kinda did our own religious education, from all sorts of beliefs, right, and now I’d say there is no such thing as a God, but if there is he probably just stopped caring a long time ago.”

An awkward silence descended upon the three of them. Dean cleared his throat. 

“How about you?”

Cas smiled gently. 

“I agree with you. Although my journey to that conclusion was quite different.” He paused. “Our family was very religious, and I searched God for a long time. But… Some things have led me to believe he does not care.”

“Is that why you studied theology?”

“In part yes. How about you? Was your” Castiel used some air quotes “ “own religious education” with your brother what led you to take a minor in esoterism?”

Dean shrugged. “I guess, yeah. You could say that.” 

The silence that followed was not a bad one necessarily, but it did feel heavy. Serious. 

Gabriel broke it by letting out a loud:

“How about that pie, then?” 

Everyone agreed that the pie was delicious. Even Gabriel, although a professional, was impressed with Dean. He took three large pieces, almost eating half of it on his own. 

They talked about logistics and move-in dates: Dean would move in the next Wednesday since Gabriel was leaving on Monday evening. Dean would move in in four days. He would have to sign a contract for one month, and after a month the contract would be renewed, or not. It was a kind of trial month, more in order to reassure Castiel than anything. Although he liked Dean - a lot - he still was anxious about living with an almost stranger. 

Around 8, Gabriel left to go to sleep. He had work at 4 the next morning, his last shift in Amsterdam. 

Castiel and Dean found themselves on their own. “Should I get going?” Dean asked. 

“You can stay, if you want!” offered Castiel. 

Dean smiled and nodded. “What would you usually do on an evening like this?” 

Castiel shrugged. “I often find myself reading, or watching a movie… “ He was thinking aloud. “But I think if you weren’t here I would probably smoke a little, or go for a walk.”

“That sounds nice, actually.” The blond man commented. 

“Would you like to?”

And so Cas put on his trench coat, watched Dean put on a heavy and well-worn leather jacket, and they headed out to a coffee shop nearby. 

“You know, “ said Dean. “When I first got to Amsterdam I had no idea there was a difference between coffee shops and cafés.”

Castiel laughed. “How innocent. How American.”

Once they got to the coffee shop, Cas bought a couple of hash joints, his Dutch sounding close to that of a native. 

They walked for a bit, and found a bench overlooking the largest part of the river, near Utrecht Bridge. Cas lit up his joint and inhaled deeply. At his side, Dean did the same. 

“We should probably have bought just one, I’m not gonna be able to finish it.” Dean pointed out. 

Cas shrugged, and took a second hit. 

He could feel his muscles relax, and he could see his mind wander, while his attention was very still. 

After a few moments of silence, Dean asked: 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course, Dean.”

A pause.

“It’s so freaking weird, Cas.”

Cas was confused. “What is?”

“That. This. Us. Like this.” Castiel was going to ask for more clarification but Dean went on. “like, I met you, what, three days ago? And I’m having dinner with you, and I don’t know jackshit about you and yet I’m sitting here, having a smoke, getting stoned with you like we’ve been friends before, like this is just another saturday evening you know? Like I’ve known you all my life and this is just what we do? How we are?” Dean took another hit on the joint. “I know it sounds like a chick-flick, right, but d’you know what I mean?”

Cas knew exactly what Dean meant. 

Dean shrugged and shook his head at the lack of an answer. 

“Sorry Buddy, I’m just really stoned already.”

Castiel had smoked half of his joint by then, and was staring at his friend’s face. He was a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of freckles. 

“Dean.”

“Yes, Cas?”

“I see what you mean.”

Dean smiled, and the brightness of the smile almost blinded Cas. It warmed his heart. Again, he felt an incomprehensible urge to hug the other man. 

“I would also describe the trust and warmth I feel towards you as strange.”

Neither of them noticed that a full minute passed before Castiel added to his previous sentence. “I rarely make friends, but connecting with you comes easily to me.” Another minute. “We shall see how this evolves once we live together, of course.”

“Right. Of course.” There was something bitter in Dean’s voice, something that said I-fear-you-won’t-like-me-afterwards, something that spoke of Dean’s own fears and insecurities, but Castiel was too mesmerized by the lights reflecting on the water to pick up on it. 

“I’m starting to get cold. Can we go?”

Castiel nodded. He too was starting to shiver. 

They walked back to the apartment and put some Netflix on. Dean was right, this felt like something they always did, despite having just met. There was some awkwardness, but there was an incomparable feeling of kinship. 

Even deciding what to watch went uncharacteristically smoothly. Dean said he had meant to watch something for a while, Castiel said he also had wanted to watch the movie but hadn’t got around to it, and so they watched it. What they watched is of little consequence. What matters is that about an hour in, Dean fell asleep on the couch, and started snoring softly. Castiel stared at the man for a long time, his buzz slowly fading, and watched over him. Around 11, he yawned himself, so he decided to find a blanket and put it over his guest. Then he himself went to bed. 

He lied there for a minute and thought of his day with content, even happiness, and he fell asleep with a smile. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!
> 
> I have had this chapter written for three days now, but I don't know how I feel about it. I decided to post it before I could overthink it any more. 
> 
> Lots of Crowley, lots of Cas, and some orange juice. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and have a lovely week,
> 
> Al

In the morning, it was raining. Castiel woke up to a message from Gabriel. Again, he asked himself why he always looked at his phone in the morning. The message only contained a picture. It was a photo of Dean sleeping on the couch, looking serene. It warmed Cas’ heart. He got up from his bed and went into the living room, anticipating seeing Dean. The feeling was bubbling in his chest. He had had such a lovely evening the day before. It had been great. Close to perfection. 

When Castiel reached the living room, it was empty. He sensed a strong disappointment feeling his guts replacing the bubbles previously in his ribcage. He took a deep breath and petted Jack. He fed his cat and took another deep breath. Then, he noticed a piece of paper sitting on top of his french press. 

_ Heya Cas, _

_ I woke up when Gabriel left and I had to run, sorry.  _

_ If you’re feeling up for it, I’m working at Benny’s near Museumplein until 3pm.  _

_ You’ll get a coffee on the house. ;-) _

_ See you around _

_ Dean _

Castiel smiled. He looked back at Jack, then at the french press. Brunch sounded nice but he didn’t particularly want to go alone, so he texted Meg and Crowley. Then, he went back to his room to get dressed. Again, he found himself wondering what he should wear. It shouldn’t matter. But somehow, it did. Cas put on his suit and found Meg had other plans, while Crowley was more than happy to go for a drink - even at 10 in the morning. He grabbed his keys and his trenchcoat on the way out. He biked slowly past Rijnstraat, the Heineken building, and past Museumplein. The Rijksmuseum looked as impressive as ever, despite the rain, and he was so focused on the delicate architecture of the building that he almost ran into a tourist, taking a picture from the bike lane. He avoided the accident very nearly and muttered some things under his breath, but kept biking. He often came into this part of the city on weekends, and the sights were quite familiar. He thought, looking at a small plant shop that he should buy a new pot for his basil. Maybe he would on the way back. 

He stopped and took his phone out, put the address in google map. He knew the area, but could not visualize where this restaurant was, and the tiny streets perpendicular to the main road were confusing. If you were not born in Amsterdam, those small streets could and would, every once in a while, take you to the entirely wrong direction. 

He was close to the restaurant. He rode his bike a couple of streets away and finally found the café. It looked lovely: an old Amsterdam canal house, with large windows. It looked busy and inviting. 

Castiel locked his bike and spotted Crowley’s. He went in. 

He was immediately greeted by cinnamon, warmth and chatter. There was music playing in the background but he didn’t recognize the song. At first, he thought he was looking around for Crowley, but he realised he really just was looking for Dean. He pushed that thought aside as he spotted his Scottish friend sitting by himself near the bar.   
“Castiel! My favorite Angel graces me with his presence.” Crowley winked and gestured towards the chair in front of him. “How are you, my dear?” 

Cas sat down. “I am well, thank you. How about you?”

They exchanged a couple of niceties. Their friendship was a strange thing, as they had little in common, but it was unexpectedly strong. 

“I’m doing grand, of course! I do have to ask, angel. How come you decided to take me out to brunch?” Castiel blushed but did not realise it. Crowley went on. “I’m flattered really. Finally, that date you owe me.” 

Castiel laughed. “Crowley. I don’t appreciate this constant harassment, and you know it.”

“You love me, angel and you know it.” A pause. Castiel grabbed the menu. “You still haven’t answered my question though.” 

Castiel didn’t. Instead, he asked about drinks. “Any recommendations?” 

Crowley grinned. “No, but now I’m even more intrigued. You invited me to  _ brunch,  _ to a place that you didn't even know? Come on, what are you hiding.” 

Castiel looked up from the menu. 

“It was recommended to me by a friend.” He said. And the words felt true. 

Crowley didn’t buy it. “I know your friends, angel. What are you not telling me.” 

Castiel casted his menu aside. “I have found a potential roommate. He came over for dinner, and recommended this place.” 

Crowley grinned. “Is he hot?” 

“We should really order, Crowley.” Castiel said.

“Oh so he is!”

Castiel sighed deeply. “Yes, he is conventionally attractive. Can we order now?”

Crowley laughed. “Sure thing, angel. Wanna take the salmon?”

“I think I will go with something sweet, this morning.” 

A stranger interrupted them. “I highly recommend the waffles, then. We make ‘em with fresh berries and some maple syrup on the side.”

Both men looked at the intruder, who turned out to be a waiter. Who turned out to be Dean. 

“Heya Cas.” He winked. “Glad you came.”

“Hello Dean,” Castel answered. “Crowley, this is Dean. He will be moving into the apartment next week.” 

Crowley very obviously undressed Dean with his eyes. “A pleasure.” he offered his hand. Dean shook it. He seemed uneasy. 

“Have you chosen yet?” 

“I will have the waffle and a cappuccino, please.” Castiel ordered. “I hear it’s really good.” Dean nodded. 

“I will take the salmon. And bring over some white sangria, that’d be lovely.”

Dean noted down their orders. “Sure thing. Anything else?”

Castiel declined and Dean left with a bright smile and another wink. 

“Well, Castiel, you little minx. I get what you’ve been hiding him. He’s pretty.” 

Castiel sighed. “I have not been hiding him. I would not have invited you to his work place if my aim was to hide him away.” He cleared his throat. “I might add that Dean is not mine for me to hide.”

Crowley chuckled. “Whatever you say, angel.” He paused. “He seems nice.” He said.

“He is.”

“You seem oddly sure of that.” Crowley was smirking again.

“He came over for dinner with Gabriel and I yesterday. We had a lovely evening. He seems like a very genuine person. He was nice.” 

“Right. Well, I suppose you have good tastes in people, since I’m here. I’ll trust your word if you vouch for him.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Me? Dramatic? Come on, angel, you know better than that.” He smiled. “Has Meg met him yet?”

Castiel frowned. “No, why would she?”

Crowley scoffed. “Well if you aren’t going to hit that, I know someone who might.”

Castiel shook his head, but knew Crowley was teasing him on purpose, and did not really mean it. “Could you stop objectifying my roommate, please?”

Crowley shrugged.   
“If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll consider it.” He paused. “The more eyerolls, the more I’ll keep on going, surely you must have gotten that by now.”   
“I am aware that not reacting is the way to shut you up, but you are too annoying for me to be able to ignore it.”Castiel said.

“Oh, Angel, is that you talking dirty?”

“Shut up, Crowley.”

“You love me, you know it.”

“Will you shut up if I say yes?”

“I don’t know, try to say yes.”

Castiel was about to retort something when Dean arrived, armed with a full tray. 

“Hello again. Here is your sangria, and… here is your cappuccino, Cas. I erm… I also brought you a glass of orange juice, on the house. It’s homemade, and it goes well with the waffles, so I thought.... I hope you like it.”

Dean looked hopeful, and slightly nervous. 

Castiel gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Dean. You shouldn’t have.” He looked at the green-eyed man “I’m sure it will be delicious.” He grabbed the glass. “I just hope you know you didn’t have to.”

Dean smiled back. “No, man, I didn’t  _ have to _ but I  _ wanted to _ . Payback for the awesome lasagna. And falling asleep on your couch. Sorry again about that, by the way.”

Crowley looked back at Cas and raised his eyebrows. He was not being very subtle. 

“Dean, you didn’t have to…”   
“I know, I know. Just… Hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll come back with your food in a bit. Enjoy!”

And Dean left.

Crowley was grinning wide.

“So, he slept over, huh?”

Castiel sighed one more time.    
“Just drink you drink, please.”

And they did. The orange juice was sweet but unmistakably homemade in the best of ways. Castiel also took a sip of his cappuccino, and nodded approvingly. That was good coffee. 

After a few sips of Sangria, Crowley started talking again.

“Well, clearly he likes you.” He pouted.   
“Could you stop this nonsense?” Castiel asked. The previously harmless teasing was starting to get on Castiel’s nerves. 

“Look. Not only does he bring you an extra thing, but your stupid little orange juice gets a special i-like-you cocktail umbrella. Me? A  _ paying customer _ didn’t get any.”

Castiel relaxed a little. “Is that what it’s about? You want an umbrella? You can have mine if you want.”

Crowley displayed his most offended expression. “What are you talking about? I don’t want your second-hand umbrella. It’s the principle of the thing.”

This time, Castiel smiled softly. “Fine. You leave me no choice.” He stood up and walked to the bar. There was a red-haired bartender working behind it. He smiled at her. “Excuse me? I apologise for the disturbance, but I was wondering if you had an extra cocktail umbrella? My friend did not get one, and he is pestering me about it.” She smiled, acting as if this sort of thing happened all the time, and handed him a couple of umbrellas. 

He walked back to their table, and dropped the tiny tokens by Crowley’s glass. 

“Oh, angel, you shouldn’t have. I’m touched, really.”

“Will you allow me to enjoy my coffee now?”    
“Of course darling, thank you.” He answered, fiddling with the small umbrellas. 

Dean appeared at that precise moment with their plates. 

“And here you go.”` He said, setting the plates on the table. This time, he didn’t stay to chat. 

To make sure Crowley would not go back on the topic, Castiel immediately asked him how his classes were doing. Crowley was teaching two courses at the Economic and Business Faculty, at the moment, and always had interesting anecdotes about his students. That week they had read a paper about an economic experiment in which people were asked for how much they would sell their souls. Participants would get the amount of money they’d asked for and have to sign a paper saying that their soul was the property of the researcher. The paper found that people almost always called back, a bit after the experiment to ask for their soul back, no matter whether they actually believe in the existence of souls or not. Crowley had done a similar experiment with his pupils and seemed a bit too enthusiastic at the prospect of owning the potential souls of about seventy economics students. 

From then on, they talked some more, and finished their food and drinks. They went over Gabriel leaving soon and Crowley’s upcoming date, but ultimately, they went back to talking about Dean. 

“So when is squirrel over there moving in?” 

Gabriel is leaving on Monday evening, so Dean will move in on Wednesday. It gives me a day to clean out Gabriel’s room.”

“You might need that.” Crowley pointed out. “so I assume you’re not coming to game night on Wednesday are we?” He went on. 

Every Wednesday, Crowley’s friends met up to play board games. It was a perfect excuse for functioning adults to get drunk and bitch about their jobs. Sometimes they didn’t play games at all, they just partied a little. Although, the people from the economics department always insisted on playing monopoly. Crowley always got extremely competitive. 

“I suppose not. Perhaps next week.”

Crowley nodded. Overall, apart from Crowley and Meg, Castiel did not know well any of the people there. He enjoyed the cathartic aspect of the gathering. It made him feel human and alive. Dean came back. 

“Hey there. Everything good?” He asked. 

“Yes, thank you.” said Castiel. 

At the same time, Crowley blurted out. 

“Dean, tell me, what are you doing Wednesday two weeks from now?”

Dean looked particularly suspicious. 

“I don’t know yet. Why?”

“Well, I’m having a game night then, with friends. And since you’re a friend of Castiel here, you’re of course welcome.”

Dean looked at Cas, but Castiel was looking directly at his Scottish friend, visibly angry. 

“Thanks for the invite, man. I’ll think about it. With the move and everything…” Dean said. 

Crowley said he understood. Dean kept glancing at Cas’ face and decided to leave them again. 

“If everything is good here… erm… Other tables.” He left rather hastily. 

“is everything good, angel? You look constipated.”

Castiel took a deep breath. 

“I appreciate what you are trying to do.” He stopped.

“I sense a 'but' coming next.” Crowley said. 

“Dean and I have gotten along well so far, but I… it is impossible to tell whether our friendship and our lease will actually work. By inviting him… it makes me anxious. What if we end up hating each other and I have to choose between seeing you and never seeing him? You invited him in a part of my life without knowing whether I want him there or not.”

Crowley stared blankly at Castiel. 

“I get your point.” He conceded. “but I also think you are overreacting a bit.”

Castiel frowned. 

“I make friends all the time,” explained Crowley. “I never ask you if I can invite someone over, now do I?”

“This is different,” argued Castiel. “This is the man I am going to live with for at least a month. You should have told me about it beforehand.”

Crowley shrugged. “Fair enough. I will not issue any more invitations to  _ Dean _ , without your express approval.”

Castiel was not oblivious to Crowley’s mocking tone, but he decided to ignore it. This was as close as his friend could admit he was wrong. 

After the incident, they went back to other topics of conversations. Pretty soon after, Crowley was leaving. He paid for his half and biked away. Overall, Castiel had enjoyed brunch. 

He ordered another cappuccino from the red-haired waitress, whose nametag said Anna. 

He had a book in his bag, so he started reading. He briefly thought he perhaps should have left, to avoid exhausting Dean’s hospitality, but the café was warm and welcoming, and the coffee was good. So he stayed. 

At some point, as he often did in cafés, he started to watch the people around him and listen to their conversations. 

A girl on his right was stressed, something to do with her parents. The person on his left was discussing an upcoming event. They had bright blue hair. Castiel liked that colour. He had never died his hair, but a small part of him wondered if perhaps he should. He shook his head and smiled. 

He turned back to his book, only to be interrupted by the sound of someone sitting at his table. 

“Heya Cas.”

It was Dean.

Castiel put his book down and smiled back. 

“Hello again, Dean.” Then he immediately said, “I hope Crowley’s invitation didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No, No! Don’t worry about it. I mean… you didn't seem too happy about it, but I’m not sure I’m even going, so…”

“You should if you want to! “Castiel immediately cut him off. “The offer surprised me, I’ll admit, and as well as we are getting along, I don’t know…”

“I get it.” Dean said. “It’s weird, living together with someone. And I’m not sure what the protocol is either, man.”

“You’re being very understanding.”

“I’m just glad we’re on the same page, buddy. Want another coffee?”

“No, thank you, I should probably let you get back to work.” 

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I should probably let you go back to your book. You can stay however long you want, Cas.”

“Thank you.” 

For the next thirty minutes, Castiel read, occasionally looking up. Almost every time, he met Dean’s eyes and offered a smile. Dean was busy, but less so as time went by. People were starting to leave, so Castiel put his book in his bag, took his coat and stood up. He walked to the bar and smiled at the red-haired woman standing behind it. He paid for his half of the food and drinks, and, as he was about to leave, she said:

“Hey, none of my business, but Dean’s shift is almost over if you wanna wait.”

Castiel looked back at her, somewhat perplexed. 

“I don’t think he would want me to w…”

“Give him a minute.”

Castiel frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

Dean interrupted them. 

“Everything okay guys?”

The red-haired grinned. “Yes, I was just about to check how our last customers are doing.” She left the two men together. 

“Hey Cas, we’ve… erm. We’ve hung out a lot, but I was wondering if you were doing anything right now?”

“I was going to buy a plant for the apartment,” Cas said. “Would you like to come with me?” He offered.

“You sure?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Dean.”   
“Let me grab my stuff, and let’s go.”

Dean came back wearing a heavy leather jacket. Castiel thought for a second that he looked dashing. 

They left the restaurant and went to buy a plant for their apartment. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends,
> 
> The fandom is going crazy and frankly so am I.  
> What is going on?!
> 
> Anyway, I had an assignment I desperately wanted to avoid, and this was born.   
> I really hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for the kudos and the comments, they mean the world to me.   
> There is a whole lot more Dean in this chapter, and we're finally getting into the good stuff. 
> 
> Have a lovely day,   
> You got this!
> 
> Al

On Monday, Gabriel left. Castiel went with him to the train station, and saw his brother’s train leave. On the way back in the metro, he felt nothing. Once he got home, he felt nothing. Then, he opened the fridge and started crying. He sobbed for a long time, he sobbed then stopped, then felt the tears urging to come back out. He didn’t suppress it. Jack must have sensed his distress: he asked for more attention than usual. Castiel cried himself to sleep on the couch. 

When he woke up on Tuesday, he felt flat. Two dimensional. Empty. There was a deaf pain in his abdomen. He felt the need to cry again, but he had a job to do. He went to university and gave a couple of classes. Then he came home to face his to-do list and although he knew he needed to get on the move, he couldn’t seem to. He needed to go through the motions, even with his heart half hanging out of his chest. Around 3, he realised he would not be able to do this on his own, so he called Meg. 

Meg showed up at 4.    
“Hey, Clarence.” She simply said. Then she grabbed a broom and cleaned out Gabriel’s room.

They spent the entire afternoon working side by side and despite the small number of tasks left, it took them several hours. In the evening, they ordered pizza. They scarcely spoke, but Meg offered to stay the night. Castiel accepted. Losing a brother was too much. He knew rationally that he was not losing Gabriel the way he had lost Alfie, of course, but the space Gabriel left was too reminiscent of the space and the silence his young sibling had left behind him, years ago. 

“I thought I could handle it,” Cas said, finishing his pizza. “I really did.”

“You’re handling it fine, Clarence.” She said. “Have you drunk yourself to death? Fucked yourself up bad? You called me right away and you didn’t even try to get me in bed. You’re doing grand, sweetheart.”

Castiel nodded. Meg was right. Gabriel had texted throughout the day, asking how everything was going and Castiel answered exactly that.

They ended up watching a documentary on bees and pollination. It was far from their most exciting evenings, but Castiel felt better by the end of it. Bees always had a calming effect on him. So did Meg. “I’m gonna turn in for the night,” she said around two in the morning. Castiel nodded. “I think I’ll stay here a bit longer,” he informed her. “YOu can take the bed, I’ll stay here.” She grinned at him. “Well aren’t you the regular unicorn.” She winked. “Can I steal a shirt to sleep in?” Castiel nodded and went back to the documentary. He briefly wondered what a ‘regular unicorn’ could mean. The oxymoron put his thoughts on a safe path. 

  
  
  


Castiel slept very badly and very little. He woke up around 7 and decided to go for a walk. He simply couldn’t stand still. He left and walked around the block, his mind impossibly chaotic. And loud. Castiel walked down Rijnstraat, and up to Utrecht bridge. He stood at the top of the bridge, oblivious to the cars driving behind him. In the city, there always was someone in the streets, at any time, and you were never the first to be awake. It was a strange feeling, to know someone else was living while you were still out. In front of him, the Amstel was quiet, the morning light was warm and no boat had yet disturbed the dark surface of the water. He inhaled deeply. It brought some order to his thoughts. It brought some calm to his heart. The river expanded towards the couple of skyscrapers that Amsterdam had in this area - so much smaller than proper ones, barely 30 stories or so. That made him smile. How tiny things were in Europe. Not that the Netherlands was a proper representation of the whole continent, but on this point it was true. Everything was downscaled and just... older. But beautiful. Charming. 

He left the views and resumed walking - this time towards his apartment. That last word kept ringing in between his ears. Charming.  _ Charming _ . His new roommate was moving in today. He was anxious and tired, but he could tell he was also looking forward to that. Dean was… well, yes. Charming. Castiel opened the entrance door to his building and his thoughts wandered back to their shopping adventure on sunday. They had bickered about what plant to buy but especially about what to name it. 

_ “We have to call it Robert! We gotta.” _

_ “Why would we call a succulent Robert?” _

_ “A Succulent? It’s a plant, Cas. Robert! Robert Plant!” _

_ “I don’t understand that reference.” _

_ “Robert Plant! Lead singer of Led Zeppelin?”  _

_ “Oh… I’ve heard of them.” _ _  
_ _ “Heard of them?? Buddy, they’re legends. Can we call it Robert?” _

  
Castiel could not have said no, even if he had wanted to. He realised that what had convinced him was the enthusiasm in his new friend’s green eyes. When he entered his flat, he saw Jack on the kitchen table. And he saw Robert near the window. He smiled. The past few days had been hard on him, but perhaps green eyes and enthusiasm were what his now empty apartment needed to be filled with. He petted Jack, who meowed. 

Jack fed, he made coffee and opened his laptop. He worked a little. The city was fully awake by now, which wasn’t Meg’s case. She was a nurse, so she had strange sleeping patterns, so he thought nothing of it. After a couple of hours, he thought of Gabriel. His brother would have insisted that coffee alone was not real breakfast. With another quiet smile, he started some pancake batter. It was past 9, Dean was supposed to arrive at 11. Maybe he’d enjoy something to nibble on. He put a Bowie record on and cooked. He was in a good mood despite the lack of sleep. Once he was done with cooking he went back to work. 

Fifteen minutes past eleven, Dean rang the doorbell. 

He showed up with a huge box in his arms and a duffle bag swung over his shoulder. 

“Hey Cas.” He said. 

“Hello Dean.” Cas answered. “Do you have anything else to bring up?” 

Dean was out of breath. “Yeah… Just…” He paused. “Son of a bitch! Those stairs are gonna be the death of me.” He paused again, somehow regaining his countenance. “Sorry. Just one more box and that’s it.” 

“That’s not a lot,” Castiel commented. 

They had agreed that Dean would keep some of the furniture in what used to be Gabe’s room: the bed frame and the mattress, as well as a closet and a desk, so seeing him show up with only a couple of boxes was not too surprising. Still, it wasn’t as much as Castiel expected.

“I’ve been living on Anna’s couch for a month and a half now. Haven’t really nested.” Dean explained. 

“I’ll help you with the last box,” Cas offered. 

They went down and picked up a box, a guitar and another bag. They chatted on the way up. Dean looked happy. 

“So what have you been up to since Sunday?” He asked. 

Cas talked about his work, and about Gabriel. They walked back up. When they entered the flat, Jack greeted them, and so did a sleepy Meg. 

She was snacking on Castiel’s pancakes, wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of his barely worn sweatpants. The clothing was obviously not hers. 

She turned around and grinned wide.    
“Well, Clarence, you’ve been holding out on me. Where have you been hiding that one?”   
Castiel sighed. He tried to disregard the fact that his two closest friends seemed to share a single brain for the sake of politeness. “Meg, meet Dean.” He turned towards Dean. “Dean, this is Meg. She is a good friend of mine.” 

Dean shook her hand, but he looked as uneasy as he had meeting Crowley. This time though, he was openly frowning. Cas wondered what Dean was thinking about but Meg cut off his thoughts before he could start feeling nervous about the obvious tension. 

“Well boys, I’ll go change and run off. I don’t think my company’s needed anymore.” She winked at them.

Cas turned to Dean. “Would you like some pancakes? I made some earlier this morning, and hopefully, Meg has not eaten everything.” 

Dean’s smile reappeared. Castiel smiled back, something in his chest warmed up.

“Pancakes sound good. You spoil me, Cas.” Dean said. The warmth in Cas’ chest spread to his cheeks. 

They sat down around the tiny kitchen table and Cas picked two plates out of the cupboard. 

A companionable silence fell upon them. 

“It’s quite a collection you got there, buddy.” Dean nodded towards Cas’ vinyls. Most of them were at the bottom of the bookcase, some were in his room, and a couple were out on the coffee table. 

“Thank you. Would you like to put something on?” Castiel said. 

“Sure! I mean, what are you in the mood for?” Dean stood up and walked to the record player. Castiel caught his eyes following the other man closely. He was very graceful. Castiel shook the thought away, but kept looking. 

“Anything that’s not  _ Desire _ .” Pause. “The Bob Dylan Album.”

Dean chuckled. “Any particular reason?”

Cas just shook his head.    
“Okay, erm… I see you were listening to Bowie? Want some more of that?”

“That would be nice.”

“Okay then, we’ve got a deal.” He put _ Hunky Dory _ onto the record player, and  _ Changes _ filled the room. It was a cheerful tune, it went perfectly with pancakes. The two men sat down and ate. Dean was marking the beat with his whole body but did not seem to notice. He was just swaying from side to side. Castiel watched him move as inconspicuous as he could. The man really was graceful. 

“You got any plans for the day?” Dean asked. 

Castiel nodded. “I have to work this afternoon. I need to go over some material for my students. I suppose you will be unpacking?”

“Yeah. It shouldn’t take that long though. I got a couple of boxes, that’s it.” Dean shrugged.

“Nonetheless, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks buddy.” He smiled. Castiel smiled back, and felt something twisting his guts. No, something  _ fluttering _ . Strange. 

“Is that Robert?” Dean pointed at the plant by the window.    
“Indeed.”

“What did you say he was?” Strange phrasing, Castiel thought.

“A succulent.”

“Succulent.” 

Pause. He looked away. 

“Well, he looks well.” Again, Castiel thought about giving a gender to a plant. Strange. He rolled with it. Maybe he was missing something.

“I think he is. Although Jack tried to nibble some of his leaves.” Dean looked slightly alarmed. “He didn’t, I stopped him in time.” Cas reassured him. 

“Good to hear. I feared for the kid’s safety.”

Castiel frowned. 

“Clarence, I’m leaving.” A feminine voice interrupted them.

“I should probably go to say goodbye. Excuse me.” Cas said. 

He walked to the entrance door to find Meg, back in her own clothes.   
“So Clarence, I won’t see you at Crowley’s tonight?”

“No.”

“I don’t blame you. Go hang out with the hot man. Make me proud.” 

She winked. 

“Meg, that is not…”

“Sure thing, Clarence.” Then she spoke louder. “Bye Dean! See you around!” 

Dean answered politely from the kitchen. 

She left, and Castiel went back to pancakes, and back to Dean.

“So… Meg?” Dean started. “Does she hang out here often?” 

Apparently, they were not talking about Robert anymore. 

“Sometimes. Although I go to her place more often, statistically speaking.”

Dean nodded. “Is she… like your girlfriend or something?”

Would he have been drinking, Castiel would have choked.    
“I can assure you there is nothing romantic between Meg and me.” He almost laughed at the thought. Sure, they had slept together a few times. Always drunk, or high, or sad. Friendship with Meg was good for him. Sex with Meg was just more emotional cutting. 

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean to pry.” Dean apologised. 

“It is alright.” Something had just occurred to him. “Do  _ you  _ have a girlfriend?” Castiel asked. He immediately regretted his formulation. It was very heteronormative. Before Dean could answer, he said: “Please allow me to rephrase that. Are you seeing anyone?”

Dean smiled. Then blushed. Dean blushed a lot. It made the green of his eyes even stronger. 

“Nope, no one.” He chuckled. “No girlfriend, no boyfriend either.”

The tension left Castiel’s shoulders. He did not know he had tension there to begin with. 

But then, Dean added, “And you? Seeing anyone?” 

“No. I am not seeing anyone either.” 

The silence that settled between them had tinges of awkwardness. David Bowie did not help.

“You know,” Dean was grinning. “When you came to Benny’s this weekend, I thought you and that guy - What’s his name, again?”

“Crowley.”   
“Yeah, I thought you and Crowley were like, dating.” He chuckled. 

Castiel looked appalled. “What on earth gave you this idea?”

Dean laughed again. “I don’t know, man, you just seemed really comfortable together.”

Castiel shook his head. “The day I express romantic feelings for Crowley is the day you should start looking for a way to exorcise me.” Castiel gave Dean a tiny smile. “He’s attractive, but he’s a terrible human being.”

Dean laughed wholeheartedly. Castiel ignored the return of the fluttering in his stomach. “That bad, huh? How d’you even know him?” Dean asked.

“He was Gabriel’s dealer, for a while.” Cas deadpanned. 

“You’re kidding right?” Dean asked. He frowned. “Oh, you’re definitely not kidding.”

“He’s a good friend. He simply has a very… unique way of looking at what is right and wrong.”

“Cas, you’re making him sound like a serial killer. Or a mobster.”

“He’s an  _ economics and business _ lecturer. I would argue it’s possibly worse.”

They laughed. 

“Cas, you’re... “ Dean chuckled. Then he stood up and put his plate in the tiny dishwasher. “Forget it. I should probably start unpacking. Thanks for the pancakes, they were really great.”

He walked past Castiel and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Again, Castiel ignored the butterflies. He was so focused on not focusing on the butterflies he forgot to answer. When he finally was ready to say something, Dean was already in his room.

Castiel shook it off and went to change the record. He put  _ Blood on the tracks  _ on and sighed for no apparent reason. Then, he tidied the kitchen and opened the window that overlooked the busy street. He went into his room to grab a sweater and warm socks, Amsterdam was considerably colder already. He made more coffee and sat down by the open window with his laptop. He started working. He slowly made his way through manuscripts. He answered an email from his favourite student, a young man named Kevin. He knew he shouldn’t have favourites, but he definitely did. 

After a while he closed the window, and turned the heating back on. He changed the record again.  _ Blonde on Blonde  _ filled the living room as he gravitated back towards the kitchen table. Small spaces had limited working surfaces, and he tried to keep all things work-related outside of his room. 

He was captivated by the same Enochian text when he heard Dean walking towards him. He sat up.

“Mind if I join you?” The blond man asked. 

“Not at all.” Castiel managed to articulate. “Would you like some coffee?” 

“Erm… Sure. Yeah.” Dean answered.

Dean took his coffee black. Not that it mattered. 

Dean sat on the couch, Castiel still at the table, and they worked in silence for a couple of hours. Neither of them replaced the Dylan record after the last few notes of  _ Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands.  _ Their studying was sometimes interrupted by one of them clearing his throat, or muttering something under their breath, or offering more coffee. 

Other than that, the day went by. Castiel took out some ramen noodles around 1, and went back to work. Dean followed his example.

Around 4, Dean said: “I can’t deal with this anymore, Cas. I’m going for a walk, wanna come?”

They walked around the neighbourhood for half an hour, chatting the whole way. They stopped by a small park and sat down on a bench for a second. 

Then they went back to work. 

In the evening, Dean made some dinner for the both of them. 

At 7, they’re both on the couch, deciding what to watch. 

“You’ve never seen Star Wars?”

“No, but we can watch it now, if you wish.”   
“Are you kidding? We’ll need to plan a proper marathon! You can’t just watch Star Wars, you need snacks, blankets,... It’s an  _ experience _ !” 

Castiel chuckled. Dean was adorable. Very passionate about things. Even about things like movies. It was endearing. Castiel was trying not to stare too much. It was hard. Dean had very green eyes. And a very warm smile. 

Oh no. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> This is a slightly shorter chapter, but it has a lot more gayness.  
> Hope you'll enjoy it! 
> 
> As always, I'm looking forward to your feedback!
> 
> Take care, 
> 
> Al

Over the next three weeks, Castiel learned a lot about Dean. Dean drank his coffee black, he enjoyed listening to rock and metal, he always paid attention to Jack, he felt really passionate about Indiana Jones and didn’t like having to bike everywhere everyday. Mostly, he missed driving, although he didn’t miss Kansas necessarily, where turns out he was from. Dean told Castiel enjoyed Vonnegut and Kerouac, and had made some friends at university, but he always asked if Cas would be there before inviting anyone over. Overall, Castiel learned that Dean was very good at being a roommate. He was discreet, kind, did the dishes when it was his turn and did not push too far into Cas’ space. They had a couple of hiccups and of awkward situations, but they had fallen into an easy routine, and despite their differences in schedules, they took a walk around the block together almost everyday. They always sat down on the same bench by the small park. They talked. Sometimes they watched a movie. They worked and studied. Castiel was enjoying having Dean in his apartment to a surprisingly large amount. However, there was one thing Dean was terrible at. He was terrible with doing the laundry. He kept forgetting to do it, or try to do it while a load was already on. He had been living here for three weeks and had very few clothes in the three boxes he had brought into the apartment. 

On Friday, it was very early morning and Castiel was working in the living room. He still heard the cursing from Dean’s bedroom. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled again.

Castiel put his laptop down and stood up. He walked towards the door and knocked softly.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Dean did not open the door. 

“I’m fine, Cas, sorry. I…” He sighed. “It’s dumb. I…” Dean sighed again, louder. “I forgot to clean my clothes again, and I have to go to work but I have nothing to wear… I’m just dumb.”

Castiel frowned. Not that Dean could see that. 

“I have a solution to offer.” He said. “I could lend you something for today. We must be around the same size, roughly.” Silence. “It might not need the perfect fit, but you shouldn’t look ridiculous either.”

“Hmm… okay.” Dean said. He sounded unsure.

Castiel went to his room, opened a drawer and took out two pairs of pants, two shirts and a pair of socks. He also grabbed a sweater that he rarely wore, and then stared at his underwear drawer for ten seconds. Before he could overthink it, he grabbed a pair of clean boxers and added them to the pile of clothing in his arms. Then he walked back to Dean’s door and knocked again.

Dean cracked the door open. He was wearing a robe, and Castiel felt his eyes go down the man’s body. He looked back at Dean's face as quickly as he could. 

“There, try this on.” Cas said, before turning around quickly. He was stopped by Dean’s hand on his shoulder, forcing him to remain in place.    
“Thanks Cas, I owe you.”

Dean had green eyes. They were very intense. 

“It’s no problem.” A Pause. “I’ll go to the living room now.” Dean still hadn’t dropped his hand. He just nodded. 

Castiel turned around for good and started walking. His mind was all over the place, and it was all green and intensity and oh no. In the past three weeks, Castiel had faced a few moments like this one. He had done his best to ignore them, but sometimes they shook him up to his core. He had a crush on his roommate. He had a crush on Dean. He had a crush on Dean and really stupid instincts that he could barely repress. Earlier that week, they had been watching a movie on the couch and he had had to consciously stop himself from putting his head on Dean’s shoulder. The weekend before that, on one of their evening walks he had almost grabbed Dean’s hand, just to hold it. A moment ago, he had almost leaned in to kiss him. 

Sexually harassing his new roommate was not something he wanted to do. And yet, at times it was all he wanted to do. 

Perhaps he needed to have sex. Maybe he just craved touch and intimacy, maybe that was what this was about. Hopefully it had nothing to do with Dean. With his friend Dean. His friend he was currently living with. He sighed. He started a fresh pot of coffee, since clearly the situation was calling for it. He waited, absently looking out the window, mind buzzing about with thoughts of what he should never do but almost did. He went back to his seat and his laptop with a mug full of coffee. Maybe work would clear his head. Perhaps he could put some music on? Something soft, but something to sing along to?

He put on  _ The Dock of the Bay _ , and gently hummed to himself. Dum, du-dum dum dum. 

_ Sitting in the morning sun, I’ll be sitting when the evening comes. _

Peacefulness. Finally. Castiel relaxed.

A moment later, Dean came into the living room. 

He was wearing a pair of jeans and the hoodie, which was a bit too small. It hugged Dean torso very closely. Castiel liked it.

“Thanks Cas, you’re doing me a solid. Sorry again though, I’ll give this back as soon as I clean them I promise.” 

Castiel shrugged. “You can keep them for now, there is no rush.”

“Still, man, I owe you…” He paused, then smirked. “I am but your humble servant.” He mocked.

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up.    
“I do have a favour to ask you.” He said. 

“Anything.” Dean answered. And oh, the way he exhaled those letters.  _ Anything? _ Castiel shook his head. 

“I would like for us to make a laundry schedule, so that this does not happen too often.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

He turned around towards the kitchen, and Castiel followed hsi movements very closely. The jeans were also a bit tight.  _ Oh no. _ Dean rose a hand above his head to open the cupboard and grab a mug, and the hoodie rose up, uncovering some skin. Castiel turned his head right away. 

He opened his laptop and pretended to work - he really was texting Crowley and Meg. 

**Hypothetically,** he wrote,  **how would one get rid of a crush one might have developed on someone else?**

Answers were quick to arrive. 

**I’d fuck them** said Meg.

**Rare occurrence but I agree with Meg, get down and dirty and then you can both go your separate ways** agreed Crowley. 

That did not help.

**What if I wanted to retain their friendship?**

Again, his friends were fast in their answers.

**Angel, is it about the eyecandy living with you then?** Crowley had caught on. Damn it. 

**It totally is, isn’t it?** **You wanna screw your roommate!!!! Hahahaha this is too good** Meg was ecstatic. 

**Can’t say I blame you, have you seen the man? Those lips were made to su -** Castiel did not bother to read the end of that text. It was particularly explicit, and he was trying to get rid of his attraction to Dean, not to get an erection in front of the man.

**Neither of you is helping.**

**What should I do?**

Meg answered first.  **Him.** She said. 

Castiel sighed loudly.

“Everything okay, Cas?” Dean asked. “That was quite the sigh.” 

This morning seemed to be Castiel’s personal hell. 

“Yes.” He answered.

Dean chuckled. “Convincing. What’s up?”

Castiel was tempted to say the truth. He could see himself, telling Dean he was struggling to keep his hands off of him, that his friends had advised him to sleep with him and forget about it. He tried to imagine - he fantasized for a second about how Dean would react, would he be delighted? Say something like “Thought you’d never ask?”. Then they could take it directly to the bedroom. Or better, Castiel could simply stand up and kiss Dean, consequences be damned. That would be a clear enough message. 

“Ground control to Major Tom? Cas ya there?” Dean was waving his hands at Cas, lost in thoughts. “You okay?”

Castiel inhaled as he nodded. “I…” What was he going to say? “I am facing a predicament, and my friends have terrible advice.” He let out.

Dean, being a kind friend, said: “Wanna run it by me?”

Castiel almost laughed out loud. He could hardly tell the other man what was going - no matter how much he wanted to. Too much was at risk. And yet,

“I have realised that I am attracted to someone I’d rather not be. I was asking Crowley and Meg what I should do, and they’re no help.”

Dean looked surprised. “What did they say?”

“That I should sleep with them.” 

Dean blushed. “I mean it’s not that bad of an idea.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. He counted to five in his head. “I don’t think that idea is exactly viable.”

“Why not? Get it out of your system, then leave, right?” Dean asked.    
“I would have to see them afterwards. Almost everyday.” Castiel realised how that sounded. Dean could simply not know. “I… He’s a colleague.”

Dean’s shoulders seemed to tense. “Oh! Okay. That sounds… difficult.”

“It is.. Difficult.” Cas agreed.  _ Especially when you’re standing right there, wearing my clothes and looking gorgeous. _ He kept the last part to himself. 

“Maybe you need to get laid. A rebound, kind of?”

“I will think about it.” Castiel said.

“Well I’m always here if you need.” Dean said. Castiel breath hitched. “To talk, you know..Erm… I’m here if you want to talk, buddy.” He paused. “I should get to work, now, right? Yeah. See ya later Cas!” And Dean left rather quickly after that. 

That had been weird. 

Castiel went back to work, then to university. The entire day long, His thoughts jumped back to their exchange in the morning. He knew, despite not always getting social values, that that interaction had been weird. 

He couldn’t pinpoint  _ why _ it had been so. Was Dean freaked out because Cas was talking of sleeping with men? No, that wasn’t it. Was he freaked out because they essentially had been discussing castiel’s sex life? Maybe their friendship was not there yet. They had only known each other for a month after all. There was a voice in Castiel’s head saying that perhaps Dean had been weird because the interest was mutual. But he shook it off. He couldn’t let his fantasies cloud his judgement. 

Work was easy enough, although a bit frustrating. Every now and then he found himself thinking about Dean. His eyes, his hands, and occasionally, how good his ass looked in his jeans. Everytime, he’d sigh and go back to the enochian in front of him. 

When he got home, Dean was already there. 

“So,” he said with a bright smile, “I’m thinking pizza, laundry schedule and then whatever you wanna do. I’m done with my paper, so I’m all yours.”

Castiel asked: “What was your paper about?”

“A pagan God thing and an apple tree. It’s freaking weird, man.” He answered gingerly.

“Would you like to tell me about that while I order the pizza?”

Dean agreed.

It was yet another peaceful evening, and Castiel was relishing in it. Again, he had to stop himself several times from closing the distance between their two bodies. 

Around 9, they went for a walk, and sat at their usual spot. It was very dark already. 

After half a minute he spent watching Dean struggling against the wind to light up a joint, Castiel said.    
“I think we should update your lease.”

Dean looked over to Cas in disbelief. 

“You want me to stay?” He asked. 

Castiel nodded. “I don’t think I could find a better roommate.” He admitted.  _ Although it might be better for you to live with someone who is not lusting after you.  _ “I would like you to stay.” 

Dean moved slowly. He put his lighter in his pocket, turned to Cas and draped his hand over his. Not fully. His fingers were just on top of Cas’ hand on the bench. Their hands were cold.

“Thanks Cas. I’d like to stay too.” 

And Dean’s hand was gone.

They stared at each other for an embarrassingly long time, and the world was gone too. 

It was just them, on a bench, in a cold Amsterdam night. 

Both jumped a moment later when some car’s alarm went off near them. 

“Jesus.” Dean mumbled, as he turned away. Then he said to Cas: “Maybe we should head back and finish this at home?”

They went home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: I was thinking of perhaps writing a chapter about the whole story so far, but from Dean's perspective.   
> A collection of moments from his point of view, if you will.
> 
> Is that something you'd be interested in?   
> Let me know ;-)
> 
> Have a lovely day,
> 
> Al


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! It's been so long!  
> At last... the Dean chapter.
> 
> Looking forward to your feedback,  
> I hope you're doing well.
> 
> Take care,
> 
> Al

Dean was feeling fairly defeated. Why was finding a place to live so hard to do? He had some money (what was left from working at the garage, and from Bobby’s life insurance, plus what he was making at Benny’s) but simply could not seem to find a place to live. He wasn’t even that picky, he was just trying not to get scammed. The most promising visit so far had been to an apartment in the South of the city, subletting a tiny room from a group of friends who, in the end, decided he was too old for the place. 

He was on his computer in Anna’s living room and was once again sending emails around. Anything within his price range was good enough. Anna was being really kind, but he could not abuse her kindness much longer. Plus, he wanted a place of his own. Somewhere he could put down his suitcases for good. He’d left  _ everything  _ behind (although he was trying not to think about that) and for what? To live out of air bnbs and off a friend’s couch. 

We did every single offer ask for an enormous deposit anyway? It’s not like he was going to trash the place or anything. He just wanted a place to sleep. Maybe a tiny kitchen. A nice window. He sighed. He clicked on the next offer, it seemed very shady. He still applied. 

Originally, he’d thought he would steer clear from anything illegal (he’d left that behind too) but he was desperate enough. He moved on to the next offer. The place looked great and the ad was straightforward: 

_ Looking for a roommate _

_ 56m _ _ 2 _ _ in De Pijp, common kitchen and bathroom, bedroom to rent 11m _ _ 2 _ _ , 575 euros utilities excluded. The room will be available from the 7th of September  _

_ I am a 27 years old American completing my PhD at the University of Amsterdam, looking for a quiet, friendly roommate.  _

_ I have a cat.  _

_ You can send me an email via  _ [ _ perhapsroommates@gmail.com _ ](mailto:perhapsroommates@gmail.com)

Quiet, friendly roommate? He could do that. The rent was surprisingly low, considering De Pijp was an excellent location. He opened a tab in his email.

**From:** [ **dean.winchester@student.vu.nl** ](mailto:dean.winchester@student.vu.nl)

**To:** [ **perhapsroommates@gmail.com** ](mailto:perhapsroommates@gmail.com)

_ Good morning/afternoon, _ he started. God, he hated writing emails to strangers, it always was so awkward. 

_ My name is Dean Winchester and I am also an american!  _

_ I am 28 and studying engineering at the free university. _

He paused. Should he say more? Nah, there was no point in saying how much of a loser he was, being so close to thirty and just starting college. 

_ I don’t know if I would describe myself as a quiet person, but perhaps as a person who enjoys quiet. The world is loud enough you know? and I often welcome it, but sometimes I think we should listen, not drown out the noise. I am friendly, and not allergic to cats, and I also have a job on the side, so I have a steady income. I am also used to sharing my space, I probably should mention. _

_ I’ve been in Amsterdam for about a month now, and I’ve learned to ask: is registration with the municipality possible?  _

_ Thanks for your answers, _

_ I would love to meet you and visit the apartment,  _

_ You can text me on this number:  _

_ +31345678965 _

_ Dean _

He clicked send. Maybe he should have spent more time refining his email, but in all honesty, he had other things to do. After that, he applied for a couple more apartments, and started to cook for Anna. She let him crash for over a week, it was the least he could do. 

  
  


The next day, he received an answer for the great place in the Pijp, and for the shadier place in West. Both were inviting him to visit soon. He smiled, but didn’t dare get his hopes up. It wouldn’t be his first visits, and he didn’t dare hope they’d be his last. The guy from the flat in the Pijp was cordial, but really formal. It was weird. But not like, overly weird. The type of weird he could handle. 

**From:** [ **perhapsrommates@gmail.com** ](mailto:perhapsrommates@gmail.com)

**To:** [ **dean.winchester@student.vu.nl** ](mailto:dean.winchester@student.vu.nl)

**Dear Dean,**

**Thank you for your interest in the apartment.**

**To answer your question, in the event you would live here you would indeed be able to register with the municipality.**

**I would like for you to come by next week on Wednesday, if that suits your schedule.**

**At 4 perhaps?**

**Looking forward to hearing from you,**

**Castiel Novak**

Weird name. Nonetheless, Dean answered, and the appointment was taken. 

  
  


On the day of the visit, Dean was stressed, but his day was going well. 

He biked to the address and locked his piece-of-shit-bike joyfully and checked the time. He walked to the door and buzzed the interphone. When he heard it click he said: “Hi! I’m Dean!”

“Hello, Dean. Come on up.” Answered a deep, deep voice. 

Dean pushed the door and was faced by the steepest stairway he’d ever seen. He climbed on. Jesus. It was steep  _ and _ endless. Stairway to Heaven my ass. Quickly enough he was out of breath. He cursed himself. That wasn’t the kind of first impression he was looking for!

When he finally reached the top, he saw a tall dark haired man standing there, looking at him. He panicked. 

“Whoo!” Dean said. “Those stairs are really something aren’t they?” He smiled. The man smiled at him. 

“Would you like to come in?” Offered the guy, who must have been Castiel. 

Dean was still out of breath, which - fuck - so he said “I would love to! I hmm.. I might need a minute though, my cardio isn’t as good as it once was.” Which was such a dumb thing to say. Dean momentarily hated himself for not going back to the gym. In all fairness, what was the point in signing up to one, if he didn’t know where he was going to live. Still though, he looked like a freaking idiot.

“The stairs take some getting used to, but after a while you can run-up to the apartment, I promise.” Castiel said. He was smiling, so hopefully Dean hadn’t put him off yet.  _ Yet _ . Dean looked back at the stairway. “That sounds dangerous. Hasn’t anyone ever broken a hip or something? These stairs are so steep, man!” Which, again, thank you captain obvious.

“Well…My brother has threatened to sleep on the ground floor a couple of times. He does not like these stairs either.” Castiel said, which made Dean laugh. “Glad to hear it’s not just me.” He walked up to Castiel and offered his hand. “I think I’m recovered. Sorry about that. I’m Dean. It’s nice to meet you.” There. That was how he should have started this meeting. 

Castiel (what kind of name was that, by the way) took his hand and shook it. He had a strong hold, and his hands were soft. “I am Castiel. It’s lovely making your acquaintance. Right this way.” 

Dean followed Cas-tiel and asked questions. The apartment was clean, and nice, and the tenant was distracting. Dean thought briefly that even if he did not get to live here, at least he had gotten the possibility to watch a gorgeous man’s butt for a while. A nice consolation price in a way. The man was absolutely gorgeous, and although Dean felt a little bad for objectifying Cas, there was no use in denying he was attracted to him. These days of gay panick were long gone. Cas’ cat, Jack joined them, and seeing the man take care so gently of his kitten warmed Dean’s heart. The guy was hot  _ and  _ adorable. If he didn’t already have it, Dean would ask for Cas’ number. 

In the middle of the visit, Dean blurted out: “You’re a lot friendlier than I expected.” And there again, way to go, winchester. King of the backhanded compliment. Castiel frowned. “No, wait, that came out wrong!” Dean said. “Sorry, that’s not what meant… I … Well, it is what I mean but…” He blushed. Fuck.

But then, Castiel said: “It’s okay, I’m not offended. What did you mean?”

Dean looked at the man’s face. The guy had really intense blue eyes. “The ad said “quiet and friendly” so… I… Well, I was kind of expecting a weirdly silent professor in tweed, ya know? You’re just… you’re very… not that.” How fucking eloquent. Thankfully Castiel was some kind of saint, and showed nothing but a patient smile. Something else was starting to bother Dean but he couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” Cas asked.

“It’s great! It’s a great thi…” And then it clicked. It smelled like smoke. “Wait, Cas, do you smell that?” He said. It smelled like something was burning. “Is something burning?” He asked. 

Something was definitely burning. Castiel was just standing there, looking confused. If he had been any less freaked out, Dean would have found him adorable. Cute even. But fire where there shouldn’t be fire was a pretty big turn off. Completely out the blue, Castiel ran toward the kitchen. Dean followed. Cas looked like he was going to open the oven, but Dean did not say “Cas wait!” quickly enough. Black smoke jumped at their faces. Dean’s heartbeat increased exponentially. Shit. Cas asked him to open a window. He did. He was on autopilot. Fuck. 

In three minutes, most of the smoke was gone. 

Cas was talking about cookies and looking so thoroughly guilty Dean smiled. Still his heart had not slowed down. “It’s okay, it happens.” he said to Cas. “We stopped it in time so…” Dean made a conscious effort not to think of what could have happened if they hadn’t stopped it. “Okay, so I’ll be honest, fires freak me out,” he said. “I have to ask. Do you forget about things in the oven often? Because that freaks me out”. He repeated. 

“I don’t. I’m usually very careful about that. I promise. Sorry.” He looked so genuinely defeated Dean believed him. “No need to apologise. As I said, it happens. It’s okay, Cas.” He said. There was something about the man - not his eyes - that made Dean want to hug him. 

“Thank you for being so understanding.” Cas said. 

Dean almost laughed. No one had ever thanked him for  _ that _ . Empathy and communication weren’t his most recognized traits. He said: “It’s fine. Visits must be stressful.” 

“They are.” Castiel chuckled. Maybe it was his eyes. 

Dean kept the conversation going. “I bet you must have met some really weird people too.”

Castiel smiled mischievously . “Well, there is one man that found the stairs up here to be particularly harrowing.” He said.

Dean laughed. The guy was funny too! “Hey! I thought you said your brother felt the same way!”

“He does. And I don’t let him forget about it either.” Castiel’s smile was soft, and gentle. Cute. “Siblings, man. I get that.” Dean said, his thoughts between the fire and the cuteness.

Cas asked him if he had any siblings himself. Dean shifted in his seat. “Hmm yeah.” How to answer that. Yes, Sammy was his brother, and would always be. And yet... “I got a little brother. His name is Sam. He’s in law school right now, back in the US. We… hmm… We don’t really talk.” True enough. Vague enough as well. 

Dean shifted in his seat again. The atmosphere around the two of them was heavy and awkward now. He went on quickly. “Anyway, hmm… your apartment is awesome, the rent is right and you seem like a cool guy. Do you have an idea of when you’ll make a decision? Regarding the roommate thing I mean.”

“You can expect to hear from me tomorrow.” Cas said.

The next day, Dean woke up on Anna’s couch. Her place was in Amsterdam West, and it was pretty nice. He looked at his phone. Shit. He was late.

He took a shower in record time, brushed his teeth and tried to get dressed in a hurry, only to find he had forgotten to wash his clothes. Fuck. What a fucking morning this was. He put on a hoodie that didn’t smell like it’d be worn a lot, and hopped on his bike. He cycled as fast as he could, and still dutch mothers were cycling faster than he was despite having their children -plural- on their bikes. And they didn’t even break a sweat either. How unfair. He arrived at Benny’s ten minutes too early (he was still fast enough, apparently), and as soon as he stepped off his bike, his phone rang. Unknown number. 

“Dean Winchester” He answered.

“Hello Dean, this is Castiel Novak.” The guy had an amazing voice. Dean wondered if Cas had ever considered becoming a phone sex operator. He knew he’d pay. Maybe not. 

“Hey Cas! How are you?” Dean said cheerfully, trying to cover he was panting from cycling so intensely. 

“I am doing well, thank you. Is… Is this a bad time? You seem out of breath.” Dean laughed. Cas had clocked it. C’mon! Couldn’t a guy catch a break? 

“No, this is fine.” He said, before explaining why he was indeed out of breath. “Let me lock my bike and I’m all yours!” He added. So was Cas calling a good or a bad thing? He could give him one of two news. Dean felt a knot securely being tied in his stomach. He locked his bike, and took the phone back from the ground where he’d put it down. 

“Okay, hi again Cas, I’m yours.” Pause. “I mean I’m listening. What’s up?”

His question was met by a complete silence. Okay? 

“Cas? You there?”

“Yes.” Castiel said. “I’m unsure how best to phrase what I want to say.” He admitted. 

“Oh.” Shit. Disappointment was an understatement. That was by far the best offer he’d come across, and despite his best efforts he’d gotten his hopes up. What a fucking morning. “It’s okay, I understand. No worries, dude. I mean it sucks, but I get it, don’t beat yourself up.” He said. 

On the other side of the phone, Cas sounded extremely confused. “What do you mean?!” He asked. 

“It’s okay if you found someone else for the apartment, Cas. I get it.” Dean gently explained. He couldn’t blame Cas, really. 

Another pause. 

Then, “No Dean, it’s quite the opposite. I… I would like you to consider moving in.” 

What? What?!

“Dude, that’s awesome! Are you sure? I mean… Are you serious right now?” What the hell? What was the catch? What? 

“I assure you I am being genuine. Would you consider it? You do not have to give me an answer right away.”

Dean laughed a full body laugh. Cas wanted him to  _ consider _ the offer. God the guy was a sweetheart. “Are you kidding? I’ll sign whatever you want me to sign dude. This is awesome news. Thanks Cas!”

“Would you like to come over for dinner this evening?” Dean felt his heart skip a beat. Dinner? Yes. But also, that would certainly complicate living in together. But Cas wen ton, “You could meet Gabriel, and we could perhaps talk about the logistics of the move?” 

Oh! That kind of dinner. Why not!

“Sure, dinner sounds good.” he said.    
And then Cas, being perfect, asked him about lasagna. Dena promised to bring pie in exchange. He spotted Benny in the shop, so he said:

“I gotta go, my boss is here. Thanks again for calling, Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow night!”

“Goodbye Dean, have a good day.” Castiel said. 

What a fucking morning this was! Dean was practically dancing in the street. He spent his whole shift smiling and flirting with customers, even got some of the best tips he ever had gotten. What a morning, what a glorious, fucking morning. 

When Benny pestered him about what made him so happy, he explained that he had finally found a place, and Benny decided to cheer to that. Several times. By 3, they were both tipsy. Dean was having the time of his life. 

Two days later, he was making pies (two of them). The first one was for Anna, who had been so generous with him, it made sense. The second one of course was for Cas. And Gabriel. Dean was looking forward to meeting them both. He was also nervous, but he did not think about it. 

He was standing in front of the door of the apartment building, out in the street. He had been standing there for a solid three minutes. Maybe he was more nervous than he cared to mention.

A snarky voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“So, you’re gonna get in or what?” 

The guy pushed him aside and opened the door with his keys. 

“Come on Dean-o,” he said. “You coming or what?”

Dean nodded.

“So, you must be Gabriel. Nice to meet you.” He paused. “I’d shake your hand, but…” Gabriel was looking at him, fairly unimpressed. “Sorry about the door thing.”

Gabriel smirked. “You nervous?”

“Maybe.” Dean admitted. Better he thought Dean nervous than weird.

Gabriel sighed. “First dates, I get it.” 

“This is not…” Dean started.

“I sure hope not. Don’t try doing my brother to avoid rent, it won’t work.” 

Dean laughed. “Crap, I guess I am gonna have to find something else, then?”

Gabriel turned around and started climbing the stairs. Dean was trying everything he could to not appear out of breath by the time they’d reach the stairs… In vain. 

“Woah your cardio sucks, man.” Gabriel said as he opened the door. 

Dean laughed. 

They got in, and Gabriel said: “Hey there Cassie. Look who I found!” 

“Heya Cas.” Dean said. He was grateful and relieved Gabriel hand’ mentioned him being a creep. He looked over to Cas, who looked adorable and intimidating. The guys was wearing a suit, making Dean feel very inadequately dressed with his old flannel shirt, but Cas also had tied his tie backward. Cute. 

“Well, welcome to you both. Glad to see the both of you have survived the stairs.” Dean chuckled.

Gabriel started a speech. Once he was done, Dean asked where he could put the dessert.

“You brought  _ dessert _ ?” Gabriel asked. 

“I made pie, actually.” Dean said. He was pretty proud of how they had turned out. 

“Bringing homemade pies to a baker? Ballsy.” Gabriel genuinely seemed impressed. 

Dean handed it over to Cas, then proceeded to take his shoes off. He thankfully thanked his past self for wearing matching ones.

“Is that cherry?” Cas asked. He was ogling the pie.

“Yup. You said you liked fruit, right?”

Castel was beaming. “I did. I do.” 

They stopped talking for a second, and Dean heard a faint music in the background. It had some harmonica, so guitar… “Is that Bob Dylan?” Dean asked. 

“Yes it is. Do you like his music?”

Dean shrugged. “Sure. I mean, the man’s a genius. It’s just so… Sad, you know?” He could not listen to Rolling Stones without crying. But no way he’d ever say that aloud.

Castiel nodded. “I understand what you mean. But I find his tunes very soothing as well.”

“I get that.” He did. Maybe some did make him think about how shitty life had been so far, but some others weren’t that bad. Some of his tunes were calming too. “Sometimes comfort doesn’t come from the fluffiest of places.” Dean heard himself say. Way to point out the obvious. Also,  _ fluffiest _ ? Since then did he use that kind of language, exactly?

Gabriel interrupted their conversation to ask about dinner. Then they ate. Castiel handed him a beer. They sat down. They talked. Dean liked them. Gabriel was loud and fun and dramatic. CAs was more poised and calm. He listened a lot. He also smiled knowingly. Dean could have sworn there was so much more behind Cas’ quiet facade. He had a nice evening. They evening talked about religion. It didn’t feel too awkward. Dean felt good. Maybe it was the apartment, the company, ... He simply felt like this was nice. A little awkward at times, but perfect nonetheless. That was weird.

Dean’s pie was a success, Gabriel made pornographic noises eating several pieces. 

They talked logistics and move-in dates. After moving in, Dean had a kind of trial month, and he got the feeling that was more for Cas’ benefit, than anything else, but didn’t say anything. 

Around 8, Gabriel left to go to sleep. After he wished them goodnight, Dean turned to Cas. “Should I get going?” Dean asked. 

“You can stay, if you want!” Castiel offered. He was happy to stay, but did not want to come off too strong or too needy or too something. 

He asked, “What would you usually do on an evening like this?” 

Castiel shrugged. “I often find myself reading, or watching a movie… But I think if you weren’t here I would probably smoke a little, or go for a walk.” Dean was surprised by that. Of course epeople smoked here. Hell, people smoked in America too. But he wouldn’t have pegged the guy for the type. 

“That sounds nice, actually.” Dean said. 

“Would you like to?” Cas offered. 

“Sure, it sounds fun.” 

Dean grabbed his leather jacket and followed Cas to a coffee shop, barely three minutes away from the flat. “You know, “ Dean said, “When I first got to Amsterdam I had no idea there was a difference between coffee shops and cafés.”

Castiel laughed. “How innocent. How American.” He seemed very relaxed. He smiled a lot. 

Once they got to the coffee shop, Cas bought a couple of hash joints, his Dutch sounding close to that of a native. It was kinda hot. 

They walked for a bit, and found a bench overlooking the largest part of the river. Cas lit up his joint and inhaled deeply. Then he passed the lighter to Dean. 

“We should probably have bought just one, I’m not gonna be able to finish it.” Dean pointed out. 

Dean inhaled the smoke and kept it in. He exhaled. Closed his eyes. He repeated that two more times. They were both sitting together, in complete silence, and one could hear the water lazily dancing. Dean asked: 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course, Dean.”

  
Dean kept the words on his tongue for just a moment. 

“It’s so freaking weird, Cas.” He said. 

Cas looked confused. “What is?”

Dean tried to explain. “That. This. Us. Like this. Like, I met you, what, three days ago? And I’m having dinner with you, and I don’t know jackshit about you and yet I’m sitting here, having a smoke, getting stoned with you like we’ve been friends before, like this is just another saturday evening you know? Like I’ve known you all my life and this is just what we do? How we are?” Dean took another hit on the joint. “I know it sounds like a chick-flick, right, but d’you know what I mean?” It  _ was _ weird. Good weird. Great weird. 

But Cas did not answer. 

Dean shrugged and shook his head at the lack of answer. 

“Sorry Buddy, I’m just really stoned already.” He tried to chuckle. His chest felt funny. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was practically a growl. The guy already had a low, sexy voice, but his smoking voice was just so hot. 

“Yes, Cas?” Dean said. He was still embarrassed about his outburst, but also slightly turned on. 

“I see what you mean.”

Dean felt his cheeks smile before he consciously did.

Castiel went on. “I would also describe the trust and warmth I feel towards you as strange.”

Nearly a full minute passed before Castile went on. Dean did not notice. 

“I rarely make friends, but connecting with you comes easily to me.” Dean moved his hand closer towards Cas’ on the bench. Then Castiel said: “We shall see how this evolves once we live together, of course.”

Dean took his hand back. What was he doing? 

“Right. Of course.” There was something bitter in Dean’s voice, because, yeah, even Cas agrees that good things don’t last. Even Cas can feel that Dean’s enough of an asshole that people around him just leave. Cas can tell that he’ll need to leave eventually too. 

“I’m starting to get cold. Can we go?” Dean said. 

They walked back to the apartment and put some Netflix on. Dean was tired, but relaxed, and although his thoughts were a bit darker, he was still okay. There was some awkwardness between them, but there was an incomparable feeling of kinship. Dean tried to focus on that. Then Dean tried to focus on the movie. But the movie was more boring than he expected. Instead, he focused on Castiel’s warmth and his even breathing. He focused on the sounds Cas made when he shifted on the couch. 

Before he could do anything about it, Dean fell asleep.

He woke up at three something in the morning when a bright white light forced him to open his eyes. Someone had draped a warm blanket on top of him. More threatening, Gabriel was standing by the foot of the couch. 

“Well, Dean-o, moving in already?” Gabriel said. 

“Did you… Take a picture of me?” Dean responded. 

“What? No! Who do you think I am? Your brain is obviously still asleep.” 

Dean did not argue. He was indeed barely conscious. Gabriel told him there was coffee in the kitchen. Dean thanked him. Gabriel left. So did Dean. 


End file.
